


It's alright to cry, even my dad does sometimes

by holmesiironman



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, HYDRA what's HYDRA, Sorry Not Sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-07
Updated: 2014-10-24
Packaged: 2018-02-20 07:56:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2421032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/holmesiironman/pseuds/holmesiironman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set just after 1x05. Hydra doesn't exist because I am living in denial.<br/>Skye is ill, upset and alone.<br/>Ward is awake, topless and in love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey so I don't know how many chapters this will be but I'm hoping to upload once a week (I know it's a bit lengthy but homework and life) however if I get the chance, I will post earlier! Many thanks and happy reading :)

Chapter 1  
Skye's P.O.V.

'Summer nights in California have always been hot,' Skye thought to herself as she attempted to kick back the white linen sheets that coated her sweat slicked skin, 'but this is ridiculous'. Huffing in defeat, she looked down to see the several blankets she had coated herself with earlier that same evening gathered in a deformed ball at the foot of her bed. Sitting up, she reached out towards her feet to untangle the mess when she became aware of a pounding in her head that contested that of the beat to 'We Will Rock You'. Suddenly, she was overwhelmed by a dizziness that seemed to shake the small bunk she called home, causing her to lurch to the side mid-lean. Throwing a hand out to steady herself, she collided with the beside table, flinging it's meagre contents onto the floor. This sent a further wave of pounding and dizziness, accompanied by a clawing feeling of nausea setting in the pit of her stomach. Cussing rather loudly for such a quite night, she swung her feet round to pick up the item closest to her- her alarm clock.  
“3:47am. Greeeaaatt! That's just what I need with-- hold up.... 17 degrees? That can't be right.” She muttered to herself, giving the pink clock a hit with the palm of her hand (which was strangely damp she observed). Hitting it a bit harder, she huffed again, louder this time, as the clock blinked, before resuming it's original state of 3:47am 17 degrees Wednesday 1st October 2014. Her eyes widened as she put two and two together. Reaching round to her back she clawed at her top (which may or may not have been Wards'), feeling beneath the sticky fabric where she could already feel the heat radiating through. Like her palms, her back was damp. As was her face, her feet, her boobs and oh! Boob sweat is so gross! Reaching her feet down to the cool floor, she- rather ungracefully- dropped to her knees, frantically searching the littered items that minutes before had decorated her little table for her most prized possession.  
“Ah ha!” she exclaimed, entering her top-secret password (which May may have made a mental note of on day two) into her phone and proceeding to type into google: 'Fever, headache and nausea causes'. Flicking through the first couple of websites, she clicked on one that looked suitable, and began scrolling through all her possible ailments.  
“MUMPS!?” gasping far too loudly for such an 'un-Godly hour' as Fitz would say, Skye began to set herself into quite the early morning breakdown. Now those she knew how to handle, but she hadn't been sick since she'd been with Miles. 17 and fresh out of the care system, she was struck down with a light case of influenza. Nothing serious, but enough to keep her off her feet for a good 4 days. Back then she had Miles to take care of her. Now though, Miles was a no-one. Just another somebody that had let her down. She couldn't even turn to her best friend, Agent Grant Ward (aka MR Fun Machine) because he was ignoring her stupid ass for her lying, backstabbing and seriously immature actions (his words not hers). Sighing heavily, she, continued to scroll, fighting back both the waves of nausea that were forced to her mind by the slight swaying of the room and the fresh tears that made her eyes swim. 'Now is not the time to be crying over someone who hates you and probably want to gut you and stuff you like a turkey on Thanksgiving Skye! You need to get better before the morning so you can show him that you're dedicated!' She could do this. She has been alone for most her life, she doesn't need someone to hold her just because she's feeling a bit under the weather... But how she wanted him to hold her! She long to bury her head in his chest and let her worries melt away as she knew they would when curled up safe in his arms. She could always go to her best girlfriend Simmons, but she didn't really fancy being handcuffed to the bed in the lab again. There was always Coulson, but the whole Miles betrayal thing was still pretty raw. And May... well she didn't have the energy to have a death wish tonight. Leaning back to rest her head against the side of her bed, she closed her puffy red eyes in an attempt to shut the tears off. Why did she always have to do this? Push the right people away and let the heart breakers waltz right on in? Pulling her knees up to her chest and resting her elbows on them, she buried the palms of her hands into her eyes, frustrated that the tears kept on coming, like prisoners escaping from a crumbling cell. Trust her to fall in love with a frickin robot!

Ward's P.O.V.

Gasping for air, he clawed at his chest, his groggy mind fully expecting to find the latest knife wound inflicted on him by his brother in his dream. Obviously it wasn't there, but it wouldn't have been the first time. Neither was waking up at random hours of the night, caked in sweat, breath ragged, chest heaving, heart thumping hard against his muscular chest, eyes dancing with un-cried tears of bad days long gone by. This time was no different. Sometimes the nightmares would be about his job; killing a few people, torturing bad-guys, being tortured etc. A lot of the times in his life, it had been about the awful abuse he had suffered at home. Now however, the majority of the time it was about a certain brunette hacker that had somewhat decoded her way past his primary defences and wormed her way into his heart. He saw her dying, injured, trapped and screaming his name to come and help her. On the odd occasion, he would be the one inflicting the pain, and those where truly his worst nightmares. He would die a thousand times just to keep her safe, so the thought of merely breaking her smooth olive skin with the prick of a needle sent his stomach reeling. Lately, however, they had been about her biggest secret yet. The boyfriend she had kept tucked away from him. From the team. He could still picture the broken look that marred her flawless features as he gave her the cold shoulder. Sure it had been almost 2 weeks, but Grant Ward made it his own personal protocol to not let anyone in. 'Never let them see the damage' was always a good rule to go by. Sure he may have feelings for Skye, probably even loved her if he was brave enough to admit it, but she was a liability. She was already interfering with his thoughts. She could walk into a room, take the breath from his body and leave him speechless by simply flashing that special smile she kept just for him. A sadness clouded his heart as he realised how long it had been since she'd last given him said smile. Sighing loudly, he assured himself that he was making the right decision. That if he let her in anymore, he would well and truly be compromised... but who was he kidding. It didn't matter if someone tried to hurt Skye tomorrow or in 10 years time when she was Mrs Ward with kids, he would still flip his shit and raise a little hell. He was already compromised. Had fallen, hard. Was humming the love theme tune. Had taken the bait. Was hook, line and sinker for Skye. Rubbing his callous hands over his face, he shook himself lightly, looking over to the alarm clock that stood stationary on his bedside table. 2:47am. Rolling his eyes to the heavens, he swung his legs out of bed, pulling on a pair of gray sweats he had flung over his chair the previous day. Deciding against wearing a t-shirt, he reasoned that he was likely the only one to be awake, therefore it was an unnecessary restriction to his work out. Because right now, if there was one thing he needed; it was to punch something.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2  
Ward's P.O.V.

Ascending the stairs two steps at a time, Ward made his way into the lounge and headed straight for the bar. Removing his headphones (which were blasting out My Chemical Romance 'Na Na Na' into the eerily quiet bus), he set about pouring himself a bourbon. Taking a sip, he savoured the burn it left at the back of his throat as he began to unwrap his hands. Once he'd finish, he neatly folded the drenched cloth in a typical Ward style (corner to corner edge to edge) even though they were for the wash. Raising the glass to his lips once again, he rested the majority of his weight on his forearms (which when placed on the clean glass surface of the bar, left sweat streaks. Coulson would not be happy.) and closed his eyes, absorbing the peace and quiet which occurred so rarely these days. More so since they picked up a rather chatty young woman with full lips and eyes that he could spend all day looking at and hair that he just wanted to run his hands through and oh my god he made himself sick he was that cheesy like come on he was Agent Grant Ward! Robot. Specialist. Tough-nut. Not some hopeless romantic! Downing the last of the bourbon in an attempt to shake the 'traitor' from his thoughts, he reached over the counter towards the nearly empty bottle (oops) when a crash followed by a muffled 'Fuck! Shit! Balls.' heightened his super spy senses. Quietly replacing the glass and bottle, he went into stealth mode. Sliding his back along the wall, he tip-toed his way towards the focus point of the commotion. Or so he thought. Was it more to his left or did it come from down the corridor? Shit. Maybe he'd had a little too much to drink. Standing in silence, he tried so slow down his breathing to see if he could hear anything. After a few seconds, he gave up, and had begun to turn around when he heard another muffled 'MUMPS!?' which seemed to come from Skyes' bunk. Of course. Now Grant Ward wasn't exactly a believer in any greater power (why should he? No-one ever had his back) but at that moment, he felt it was necessary to glare up to the heavens with the mightiest bitch face he could muster. God the universe give a good punch in the gut. Sighing heavily, he reasoned it was just better to get it over with. Striding up to the bunk with the full intention of opening the door and giving her a piece of his mind for scaring him like that at (he glances quickly at his watch) 3:50am, he is stopped in his tracks, hand just inches from the door panel, by an almost inaudible sob. A deep frown distorted his handsome features as he leaned in to press his ear to the door. Another sob, just as quite and some what muffled, as if she was trying desperately hard to keep it together. Now this hurt him. More than any torture ever had. The mere thought that the girl he loved (YES l o v e d thank you very much) was on the other side of this door, trying not to fall apart had his stomach in knots. Taking a deep breath he pressed his splayed out hand to the panel, not even bothering to glance at his picture and bio that flashed upon the mini screen, he just stared on ahead at the darkness of the door, willing his heart to stop beating so damn fast. The door seemed to open agonizingly slowly, yet it gave him chance to prepare himself. Taking yet another deep breath, he squeezed his eyes shut, before slowly blinking them open. The sight before him threatened to rip his heart out completely.   
She was tucked up in a ball. Her arms clinging tightly to her knees, head buried in-between, she was rocking herself rapidly backwards and forwards, her hair sticking to her barley visible forehead. Even under the circumstances, wearing only an over-sized t-shirt (wait... was that his?) she looked adorable. The way her wavy hair was splayed out across her shoulder and... another sob brought him out of his thoughts. Clenching his fists, he opened his mouth- a gruff “what's up?” on the tip of his tongue then promptly shut it. 'No. Not Agent Ward. She doesn't want-- need Agent Ward. She needs Grant.' Opening his mouth again, he said the only thing that sprung to mind. And boy was that lame! In fact, if May was here now, he's pretty sure even she would've cracked a smile at his tactics. But Agent May didn't matter. Not when Skye had raised her head from her lap, eyes gleaming, cheeks stained with dozens of silent tears, open-mouthed in shock at his sudden change in attitude. He swallowed loudly, all too aware of how nervous and safe she made him feel by simply looking at him. He felt his chest constrict as the words he just spoke sank in. Oh God! He was such an idiot. She could reject him! She'd probably reject him and the embarrassment would be too much to bare and he'd have to quit being her SO maybe find a new team he could always go live in Mexico with a new identity and HOLD UP DID SHE JUST NOD? She nodded. She did! She really did! A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he turned and slid the door shut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm pretty new to this, but I'm really enjoying writing Fanfiction so yay! I will try to update it as much as possible, but with homework and everything time's a bitch :/ R&R?


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this paragraphing is easier to read, I am really enjoying writing this! Definitely more Skyeward to come, but I like all the characters so I'm trying to keep them involved. Happy reading :)

Chapter 3  
Skye P.O.V

Eventually, she just let the sobs take over. She wasn't really worried about being found out, crying quietly to herself was one of her specialities. A skill she had acquired way back when the walls in her current foster home were too thin (just like her figure as a result of the rations she was punished with for speaking out for one of the younger kids). This memory just made her sob a little harder. She thought she had come a long way since those dark days, finally found herself a place she could call home with people she could call family- something she never had. Turns out she was wrong. 

Those dark days never ended. Because here she was, all alone, crying in the middle of the night, struck down by something that felt like the plague. It was probably the plague. She hadn't even realised that she'd started rocking backwards and forwards until it made the pounding in her head almost unbearable. She was just about to give up and crawl back into bed when she heard a soft voice coming from directly in front of her. Her head shot up, resulting in a pulse of nausea and a feeling like she had been hit with a hammer in the centre of her forehead. But she was too shocked at the current situation to be bothered about something as simple as the plague.

Standing before her, silhouetted by the light coming from the hallway against the darkness of her bunk, stood a totally topless Grant Ward. Her eyes couldn't fail to notice the lean muscles of his pecs and abs (which were FYI shimmering in the dim light with a gloss of sweat from his workout). This sight alone made her feel just that little bit better. 'Shit!'as an afterthought, she remembered what she must've looked like with her sweat and puffy eyes and hoLY CRAP WHAT DID HE ASK HER AGAIN? Dragging her eyes from his glorious abs to his eyes, she slowly nodded. With a small smile, he turned and slid the door shut. Once again, she was clocked in darkness... only this time she wasn't alone. 

Activating the torch app on her phone, she held back a gasp of surprise as the white light highlighted her SO's handsome face just inches from her own. He was studying her closely, as if measuring the situation. She held her breath, half expecting him to retract his offer and to leave her again, like it was just some silly prank. His gaze however, simply fell to the floor, and then back up to her eyes as if trying to hint something to her and Mary and Joseph he just looked at her lips. Smiling slightly, as he prompted her with his gaze again, she angled the light of her phone down towards the floor, only to see his hand reaching out towards her in a silent invitation. Closing her eyes briefly, she allowed herself to let out a shaky breath and placed her small but firm hand in his which fitted like pieces making a puzzle. 

He frowned a little and Lord have mercy was this man even human? Like, is it even legal to be that hot? Lost in her thoughts, she barely had time to react to the other hand he was stroking her face with. He began by wiping away the tear stains, before tracing his surprisingly delicate fingers around her eye to her forehead, where he laid his palm flat. His frowned deepened and he looked at her in a way that made her heart swell and her head spin (well more than it already was). Smiling sheepishly, she tugged at his hand as if to remind him that they were both half naked, kneeling on the floor of her bunk at 4am. He returned the smile and wow were those dimples adorable! She felt herself being pulled to her feet unexpectedly which only sent her head reeling once more. Throwing her free hand out again, she smacked right into his hard chest, his free hand wrapping around her waist to support her.   
“Woah. Easy there.” His voice was uncharacteristically quiet and soothing and tugged at her heart.  
“Sorry I just--” Her voice came out croaky and raspy (why would God bring a topless Grant Ward to her bunk in the middle of the night when she was ill?? WHY). Having dropped her phone in the transition, they were stood in the darkness, her hand above his heart, her other laced with his and she was all too aware of the feeling of his cool hand brushing the burning skin of her waist as her top had rode up when he grabbed her. Stood this close, she felt rather than saw the deep frown on his face as he assessed her condition. Sighing heavily, she realised that the last 20 minutes had seriously tired her out, and that all she wanted to do was to take him up on his offer and sleep. 

Closing her eyes, she leaned her head forward, feeling him stiffen slightly, then relax as she nuzzled her face in the juncture between his neck and shoulder. He skin was fairly cold, like a balm against her own. She could feel the heat radiating off her. 'DAMN THE PLAGUE' she yelled internally. They stood like this for a few minutes before they began to sway, ever so slightly, Ward resting his chin on her head. She let out a contented hum, relishing the feeling of his smooth thumb drawing loose circles on the skin above her panties. She almost fell asleep there and then, so exhausted that she literally stopped caring. So much so that when he removed his head from hers, pushing her away from him slightly, she let out a moan of disapproval. He chuckled. A rich sound that radiated through her, making her smile shyly. Letting go of her hand, he moved to rearrange the tangled covers on her bed, before groping around for her hand again. Tugging her down with him, he pressed his back against the wall, one hand cupping her waist, pulling her hips to his, the other was under her head like an extra pillow. Sighing happily, she let herself relax, finally feeling safe. Even the headache seemed to ease in his presence. Pushing her back flush against his honed torso, she tangled her legs with his, smiling when she felt his chin on her shoulder. 'We fit together so perfectly' she thought. There was one thing troubling her though.  
“Grant?” she whispered as if she was afraid her voice would ruin the moment, but she just had to hear herself say it one more time.  
“Mmmhmm.” his answering hum vibrated his chest, sending chills down her spine.  
“I'm sorry.” Her voiced cracked, fresh tears threatening to dampen his hand. She felt him adjust his chin before the beautiful sensation of him pressing his lips to her burning neck had her even more light headed than before.   
“Don't.” was all he said. It was firm, yet the emotion behind it was raw and magnified by the close proximity of there bodies. More tears sprang to her eyes.  
“But--”  
“No. Go to sleep Skye. We'll get you some medicine from Simmons in the morning okay?”   
“Okay”  
“Grant?” She felt him sigh.  
“Yes?”  
“Will you stay with me?” Her voice came out tight and afraid, like that of a child.  
“Always.”   
“Thank you.” She whispered so quietly she thought he may not have heard. Then she felt the feeling of his lips brushing her neck again and she almost melted right then and there. Sure they had a lot to talk about, but right now she was seriously struggling to keep her eye lids from drooping, and she couldn't remember the last time she felt this safe. That feeling and the sound of Ward's breathing, so steady and reliable, had her tumbling into one of her deepest sleeps for years. Her last thought before she let her exhaustion take over was the offer he had given her minutes before.  
“I never wanted to be alone, so I figured you wouldn't either. Do you want me to stay with you?”  
'Always.'


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So rn I'm debating whether to add smut, because for my next chapter it could work, but idk? :/   
> Hope you're enjoying this so far, I just had to add the clothes swap thing because I think it's adorable! Happy reading :)

Chapter 4  
Skye's P.O.V

Woken by a steady stream of pale light through the bus window at the foot of her bed, it took Skye a while to come to (like the only con to a deep sleep). When she did, it took her another 30 seconds to recall what had happened earlier that same morning. A churning feeling of embarrassment mixed with love and fear settled in the pit of her stomach, and she felt a blush creeping up her neck. Swallowing thickly, she sat up carefully, the painful memories of last nights migraine was still fresh in her mind. She began stretching out her arms and shoulders before sweeping her hair around to one side, and rubbing her eyes. She felt strangely cold. Not cold cold like she had in her fits of fever, but like she was missing something...or someone. Ward.

Frantically glancing round the room, it quickly became obvious that he wasn't around, a discovery that had Skye feeling ill all over again. He still hated her. That must be it! Last night was just a way to make her stop crying, maybe she was keeping him up with her crying. But she could've sworn she felt him kiss her neck? Was she already asleep then? It might have been the fever. This theory brought tears springing to her tired eyes as she had really thought they'd turned a corner. Her love for him was really going to be the death of her. Swinging her legs out of bed for the second time that day, she looked at the alarm clock lying amongst the other items of her dresser on the floor. '2:09pm. Wow. He even let me skip training. Probably pities me. Oh God!'. Just thinking last night could have been a pity cuddle almost had her hurling. Pushing the thought from her mind, she began collecting the items up and placing them back on her beside table before blindly grabbing a pair of fluffy socks, stuffing them on her feet and scurrying out of her bunk. She headed straight for where life on the bus was usually most animated during this time of day. The lounge, however, was empty. Frowning to herself, Skye completed a 360 degree turn to scan the bus for any signs of life. There was none. A revelation that resulted in her panic. Perching on the edge of the coffee table, she took deep breaths, trying to reason with herself by listing all the possibilities for this anomaly. It was a short list. Snatching up her hair into a loose bun on the top of her head, she racked her sleep-clouded brain for any explanation. It was then she heard a sound from below.

Descending the stairs slowly, icer in hand (she had nabbed it from one of Wards' many hiding places around the bus), she forced her lungs to take in oxygen, fearing that rather than being attacked, she may just faint. Nearing the bottom of the stairs, she placed her hand over her mouth to muffle the ragged sound. Then, putting her shoulder flush against the wall, she used one hand to type in the code for the lab, whilst she cocked the icer with the other. Throughout this, the over-bearing absence of her beloved SO (who would have solved this and would probably be having a spot of lunch by now (Mother of Mary she was hungry)) weighed heavily on her mind. Typing in the last few digits, she took one last chance to steady her heart beat, before simultaneously clicking the 'enter' button and pushing off the wall with her shoulder in order to spin around into the threshold of the lab. Her icer, now raised to fire. 

“HOLY CRAP! YOU GUYS SCARED THE CRAP OUT OF ME! WHAT THE HELL!?” She exclaimed loudly to a just as startled Fitzsimmons, who seemed to be in the midst of building some sort of machine.  
“Oh hello Skye! You're awake!” beamed Simmons, tugging slightly at the hem of her sweater as if it was suddenly to small for her petite frame. One classic sign that Jemma was uncomfortable and nervous.   
“No shit sherlock.” Skye snorted, her fear moulding into irritation. Glancing at Fitz who she realised had been strangely quiet, she saw that his wide-eyes were following the erratic movements of the icer she still held as she waved it around to emphasize her emotions. Like a rabbit in the headlights, she thought. Giving him a sympathetic look, she sheathed the gun into her back pocket and raised her hands in the air in a gesture of peace. A smile broke out onto his face, making her smile even wider. Simmons cleared her throat. Turning to face her friend who had moved to the back of the lab, Skyes' smile faltered as she saw what the woman was standing in front of. 

The holotable was on, projecting several video streams into the air above it. Taking a few timid steps forward, she peered closer, raising her hand in Simmons's direction when she heard the scientist clear her throat to begin talking. Arriving at the holotable, she noticed that there was a certain familiarity to the streams. 'CCTV live feeds.' She concluded. Scanning her eyes rapidly over each of the 16 mini-screens, she summarised each one in her head: 'Kitchen: three chefs two waiters, Front Garden: quite a few guests, waiters, men in suits looking sinister, Hallway: few guests, dodgy looking doors, Agent Grant Ward, a body, a--' Hold up....

Leaning her face right up to the projection, she tinkered with the holotable until the mini-screen was enlarged to take up the whole screen. Her breath hitched and she visibly tensed at the sight before her. Battered, bruised and limping on what looked like a bullet wound to the thigh was none other than the love of her life, who no less than 8 hours ago was wrapping her up in his arms and making her feel safer than she'd ever really felt. Gun in hand, he rounded a corner, out of the range of this current camera. Moving quickly, heart thumping so hard against her chest she was sure Fitzsimmons (who were deadly quiet) could here it, she moved through the feeds until she saw him again, this time with Coulson at his side, both firing into a mass of suited men armed with a variety of weapons. Her gut flipped then contracted as she watched, realising that any moment she could watch him get shot and die right in front of her eyes. Coulson too. Oh God she might just throw up. It was like watching a car-crash, horrendous but she just couldn't tear her eyes away. “The loneliest moment in someone's life is when they are watching their whole world fall apart and all they can do is stare blankly”- Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby. She'd never related to anything more in her life. Here she was, watching the two most important men in her life fighting for their lives, and they hadn't even said goodbye! She was angry, so angry, but before that she was petrified and felt alone. So she reached out for the third most important man in her life by reaching her hand out behind her, never taking her eyes of the screen. Since Simmons was standing to her left, it was only logical for the invitation to be for Fitz. So, placing his hand in hers, he squeezed it gently, moving to stand to her right, a grimace plastered on his face. Removing her other hand from where it had been clutching her stomach, she groped for Simmon's hand. Taking Skye's hand, she flashed her a weak smile which tore at Skye's heart. For the first time it hit her that these two had been watching this for God knows how long before her, and her heart ached for them as she realised that they were younger than her, far more innocent. It would be just as hard for them to lose a member of the team as it would for her. Well maybe not Ward, but they didn't know how she felt right? By the looks they were giving her, she wasn't entirely sure that was true. 

The fight on screen got physical. 2 Vs 8 didn't exactly seem fair, but before she knew it, Ward and Coulson were sprinting away (well Ward was kind of hobbling but still) and, when she flicked through the feeds to keep up with them, she heaved a huge sigh of relief, echoed by her best friends flanking her, as the welcome sight of the short bus came into view, driven by none other than the Calvary. Squeezing their hands, Skye turned to the left, then to her right, flashing them both a grin. The knots in her stomach had begun to fade, and as Fitzsimmons released her hands to prepare the lab for 'patch-up' she lent her weight against the holotable, legs feeling like they were about to collapse. She must have blacked-out for a moment or two, because one minute she was standing, hunched over, trying to catch her breath. The next she was sat againt the wall, head lolled to the side with the looming faces of Fitzsimmons swarming in and out of view.  
“Skye!? Can ya hear us?” that was Fitz, she thought.  
“You look really pale! Should I get an IV? Maybe some blankets? TEA! EVERYBODY LOVES TEA!” the stress of the morning must've been getting to poor Jemma as she got more frantic by the second. Thinking it was only going to get worse when the team arrived, Skye held up her hand to stem the flow of questions she knew were coming in typical Fitzsimmons fashion, before trying to stand up, failing miserably and banging her hip on the way down. Holding her hand up again, she interrupted them:  
“I'm fine, just got a bit over-whelmed! Can you just please help me up, and get me upstairs? Please.” her voiced became strained at the end as she fought a sudden rush of emotion that caused her eyes to swim. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she raised her eyes to meet their faces and pleaded with them in a whisper. “Please.” 

Nodding slowly, Fitz put his arm under one of her, whilst Simmons did the same on the other so they were taking most of her weight between them. Then at an embarrassingly slow shuffle, they made their way out the room and up the stairs, pausing in the kitchen so Skye could grab a bit to eat (she was ravenous) before proceeding to their destination. Back in her bunk, Skye was again overwhelmed by last nights memories and this afternoons nightmares and ushered a very concerned Fitzsimmons out of her bunk with cheery “I'm fine!”'s and “Go get them patched up!”'s and “Thank you for your help!”'s. Sliding the door somewhat rudely in their faces, she stared at it, before typing in the code and opening it again. Fitzsimmons was already gone, their science terminology still baffling her as it bobbed down the hallway in the direction of the lab. But she wasn't headed that way, instead she moved two bunks down, typing in the password she had sussed out on week 2 and slipped into his bunk. It wasn't much, unlike hers, he had little clutter, tending to only stick to the basics. 'Typical Agent Ward.' she mused. Popping her head out of the door and looking both ways for any sign of Fitzsimmons, she retreated quickly into his bunk, sliding the door shut behind her.

Sinking to the floor, too exhausted to use her feet, she crawled her way over to his bed, picking up a black SHIELD hoodie off his chair on the way. Pulling it over her head and down her waist, it hung longer than the t-shirt of his she was wearing, stopping just short of her knees. But she didn't mind. It smelled like him, more than the top. Like bourbon and forests with a slight whiff of sweat but to her it was home. Yanking it tightly around her, she raised herself onto his bed, slithering under his crisp sheets and hugging her knees to her chest so she was practically in the foetal position. She wanted to cry, she really did, but she was just so exhausted. However, as it turns out, the universe was not on her side today and any hope of sleep was wrestled away by the anxiety clawing its way around her body like a caged animal. That and the fact that the bed was cold without him. I mean, it was perfectly natural for her not to like a cold bed, and she only missed him because he kept it warm... right? So she lay, listening to the sound of her own heart beat, feeling a little less whole, and waited for him to come back and stay with her, like he promised he always would.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one isn't very Skyeward-y... but lots of fluff to come in the following chapters, promise! Happy reading :)

Chapter 5  
Wards P.O.V.

Something sharp was hitting him the the ribs... repeatedly. He wanted to open his eyes and see what it was but right now, he could barely feel the pain of the days labour and he was so tired! Suddenly, there was a hot breath against his ear “Wake up now or I swear to all of the Gods I will smack you into next week.” hissed May. Not even Skye naked would wake him up as quickly as that threat. Stroking the ache in his neck from where he had began napping in a strange position, he blinked his eyes open slowly to let them adjust to the light. The room looked pretty much the same as before. He was sat opposite 8 higher-end agents who were debriefing them on the mission. Or were meant to be. There was a light background chatter, making the debrief look more like a lunch break. It was blatantly obvious that none of them wanted to be here, in fact he was pretty sure there had been 10 when he last opened his eyes, and the only person keeping them in check was May- who had filed all the work and was writing us the assessments with next to no complaint. Which begged the question, why had she summoned him from his morphine-induced slumber? Opening his mouth, he turned to voice his question to the woman who was sitting next to him moments ago, to find the seat empty. How had he not seen her go? Oh yeah it's Agent Melinda May. Doing a quick scan of the room, he quickly found her confiscating what looked like a game console (with a Captain America game inserted in the back) off a sleepy looking Coulson.

Rolling her eyes at Ward, she made her way back to her seat, tossing the game console on the table in front of them. Both of them glanced over to Coulson to see him pouting like a child. Looking out of the corner of his eye, Grant could've sworn he saw her smile ever so slightly. He was about the tease her about it, when his previous question came to mind.  
“So why'd you wakeme upp?” his voice sounded thick in his ears, slurred by the morphine probably. Stupid leg wound. Fighting back a smile, May pointedly looked over to the end of the room to were a serious looking Victoria Hand was shuffling through some documents. May suppressed yet another smile as Ward sat up straight like he had a stick up his arse, tense, alert and focusing on the agents across from him. Leaning in, she delivered him what all agents involved in the case saw as the worse news in the whole ordeal.  
“She's not happy with some of the details. Something about no fair trial and human rights.” A loud groan came from the now slouched figure of Ward, head in his hands.   
He may have been in pain before, but the hell began now.

Three long and painful hours later, he was all but dragged aboard the bus by a less-than enthusiastic Agent May. Having had the morphine wear off about 2 hours into the meeting, he was now delirious with exhaustion, pain and loss of blood from the still gaping wound in his thigh.Now at the mercy of Fitzsimmons, it was all he could do to keep his eyes open- knowing that there was no way Fitzsimmons would be able to drag his unconscious body up the stairs and to his bunk. There was also another motive, but one he wasn't willing to admit when question. After spending an 'intimate' night with Skye, he was anxious to talk it over with her, to tell her how he felt so he could just touch her, hold her, be WITH her. This however, made him more nervous than any dangerous mission ever had. Sure, Grant had had girlfriends, with looks like his it was kind of a given. However he was more accustomed to one night-stands. Have a little fun, don't get attached, leave. It meant he never had to let anyone in, never had to worry about anyone else. A good plan for a specialist to have. No assets= no leverage for hostages, blackmail etc. It was fool proof. Well... until Skye. Thinking this through was beginning to make him feel nauseous and even more sleepy, so he did what he did best when it came to Skye: he distracted himself away from her.

He watched as Fitz finished patching May up and moved onto a small head would of Coulsons'. He watched as she stalked up to what must've been the cockpit. He watched as Simmons scurried around him fetching new IV's and needles and contraptions to poke and prod him with. As calmly as he could, he answered her billion questions, maintained some of his manliness by not wincing and thanked her when she was done. Biting the inside of his lip to stifle a moan, he lowered himself painfully of the bed, and hobbled out of the lab, nodding to Coulson on his way out. Fitz however, rushed to his side, explanation for his actions already hanging in the air between them before they had even reached the stairs. Baffling on about some science tec, Ward just nodded and smiled, letting his friend take some of his weight, too tired to try and refuse the well needed company.

About 10 minutes later, Ward arrived at his bunk with a very out of breath Fitz trailing slightly behind him. Laughing at his friend, he shook his head as the scientist reeled off into a long description of his medical background and lack of experience in the field etc etc in order to explain his unfit state. Whilst he was doing this, Ward placed his hand on the panel, grinning to himself as he listened contently to the smaller man chatter away. Then Fitz was silent, so he guessed the rant was up. Composing his features, he turned to thank the scientist for his help when he saw the little mans' eyes were wide. Slowly spinning on his heels, he too widened his eyes when he saw the 'situation' that was sitting on his bed. Her hair was pulled back in a messy bun, his hoodie hung around her knees, dark shadows around her eyes only worsened by her tear smudged make-up. Her big brown eyes were staring up at him. At first in embarrassment to be found in his bunk- he guessed. He was about to say something when there was a sudden change in her vulnerable appearance. It was like the shield she had so bravely put up everyday before last night (when he had so simply torn it down with his kind words and tender touch) was back, set into place behind her eyes. Her nostrils flared ever so slightly, her brow furrowed in anger. Setting her fluffy socks on the floor, she stood up with purpose... maybe a little too much purpose while still feeling ill. She swayed ever so slightly and of course he was there, reaching out for her, concern etched on his pale face. Swatting his hand away, she did something none of them (including Fitz who was stood spellbound at the door) expected. She began hitting him.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHAT EVEN IS THIS CHAPTER???   
> i'm ill don't judge  
> hopefully the next one will be better  
> this one is hideous  
> Happy reading :)

Chapter 6  
Skye's P.O.V

Hearing voices outside of his bunk, she roused herself from her light slumber, rubbing her eyes and stretching out like a cat. Tucking her legs up under her, she turned herself so she was facing the door in time to see it open- revealing a very wide-eyed Fitz and Ward. At first, she was over-whelmed with emotions. Happiness (he was alive!), concern (he didn't look too good), pride (that was her SO kicking ass!) and then the embarrassment hit her like a freight train. Staring at him, the awkward silence was all too prominent. But she was too busy trying to cover up the fact that she was mentally beating the crap out of herself and wanted the floor to swallow her up whole to think of something to say. They had spent one night together, just one! Sleeping together, not SLEEPING together! He was just taking care of her, being her SO! And now here she was, looking like a car crash in his bunk having worried about him all day! She was such an idiot! I mean, he obviously didn't care about her, he didn't even say goodbye.... And just like that, the embarrassment was gone, replaced by the sickening feeling of anger, burning its way through her veins. She was angry at herself for being so stupid, of course, she broke the number 1 rule (shut them out because the more you care the more you have to lose rule) so this was technically her fault. But that didn't stop her getting angry at him for putting her in this position! No, forget angry, she was pissed! Like, Bruce-Banner-the-huge-green-monster-called-hulk enraged. 

Standing up too fast in her haste, she mentally cursed as the room swung around her like a pendulum. Resisting the urge to close her eyes, she made sure she had them focused on his. When he reached out to steady her, she forced herself to reject him, feeling the hurt that flashed through his eyes in her own heart. It wasn't because she hated him or anything, hell she did anything but hate him right now, but she knew that if he touched her in anyway (God bless her) her resolve would break away and she would wrap her arms around him and beg him to never leave her again. But she was angry that he had left her like that, without an explanation. He could've been killed! Then where would they be! She could not lose him. That was just not an option. So she needed him to know she was angry, because maybe then, he would think twice before sticking his life on the line without at least kissing her goodbye first! And if he touched her in anyway similar to the way he did last night, she is almost certain that she would forget her own friggin name, never mind why she was furious with him.

Not trusting herself to speak without breaking, she did the next best thing and hit him squarely in the chest. It wasn't hard, she would never hurt him she just couldn't get the right words out to express her feelings. So she did it again and again, raining light punches on his chest, that barely had him tickled, let alone in agony. Then she began ranting, tears once again uncontrollably streaming down her face (that was beginning to annoy her, the constant crying thing. She doesn't cry in 8 years and then this douche comes along and she does it like 3 times in 1 day. Ridiculous.). Poor Fitz looked so alarmed and uncomfortable, so with a nod is his direction, she dismissed him, grateful that he had the curtsey to shut the door after him. Then she opened her mouth and everything just flowed out.  
“HOW COULD YOU EVEN DO THAT TO ME? ARE YOU FOR SERIOUS? YOU'RE SUCH AN ASS! YOU LEAVE ME, WITHOUT EVEN S A Y I N G SO MUCH AS A GOODBYE? WHAT, DO I LIKE NOT DESERVE THAT OR SOMETHING?” Up until this point she'd been hitting him still, with him standing in front of her frowning deeply, confusion lighting up his eyes. Now however, he grabbed both wrist and pulled her closer to him, she tried to pull back, tears in full-flow, almost hysterical.  
“I HAVE BEEN WORRIED SICK ALL DAY! I ALMOST WENT STRAIGHT UP OUT OF MY FRICKIN MIND WATCHING YOU ON THEM SCREENS, WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING I THOUGHT YOU WERE GONNA DIE! YOU'RE SUCH A FUCKING WANKER YOU JUST LEFT ME GRANT! I HAD NO IDEA WHERE YOU'D GONE--- I THOUGHT YOU THOUGHT WE WERE A MISTAKE AND THAT YOU HAD JUST LEFT!”  
“Hey woah now that's unfair! I've never had someone who cared for me before okay? AND BY THE WAY my J O B here is to go on missions, so since when did I have to inform you of that, I kinda thought that came under job description of the job title: Specialist Operations Agent.” great. Now he was angry. Well, she'd already opened her mouth, might as well keep ploughing through.  
“Well I care for you! So no, you can't just go out on a suicide mission without saying goodbye to me! I don't know if you've noticed this being a robot and all, but I can't lose you! I need you to literally breath and after last night I thought you felt the same way--” he opened his mouth to interrupt, but she got there first, raising a hand (which he still had a hold of).  
“I understand now that I was wrong to think that and I’m sorry if I got the wrong impression. I just-- I thought-- I thought you wouldn't hurt me, that you'd be the exception to the rule. But you're right, your job is to go on missions and to risk your life and I don't know if I’d be able to live everyday like today, going insane wondering whether you were gonna board this plane walking or in a body-bag! Thanks for the help last night, and I’m sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable, it's not your fault, I guess I have a thing for falling in love with heart-breakers.” She concluded, a little breathless having rambled through that speech, eyes cast down, she was painfully aware how needy and pathetic she sounded. Even more painfully aware, however, of how true it all was. Meeting his eyes once more, she saw so many emotions there, swirling round those beautiful whiskey coloured orbs and she just wanted to kiss him but instead, she removed her hands from his, and pushed her way past him, trying to get away from the awkward silence that deafened her after her kinda-sorta love confession.

She was almost at the door when she was suddenly being whirled around by a rough hand around her wrist. Then she was nose to nose with an infuriated Grant Ward.   
“You had your say, now I get mine.” he gritted through clenched teeth.  
“I HAVE DONE NOTHING BUT BE THERE FOR YOU! EVER SINCE I BECAME YOUR SO. SURE, WE DIDN'T EXACTLY GET ON TO BEGIN WITH BUT I HAVE NEVER DONE ANYTHING BUT BE THERE FOR YOU! AND THEN HOW DO YOU REPAY ME? BY THROWING SOME STUPID ASSHOLE BOYFRIEND IN MY FACE.” She winced.   
“SO EXCUSE ME IF I WASN'T GOING TO POUR MY HEART OUT TO YOU AFTER ONE NIGHT SKYE!” now that one hit her like a slap in the face. She never expected that off him in the first place.  
“OH I DIDN'T WANT YOUR LIFE STORY WARD. I WANTED GRANT. THE GUY WHO STAYED WITH ME WHEN I WAS ALONE, THE ONE WHO MADE ME SAFE, THE ONE THAT MAKES ME FEEL LIKE HOME. AND IF THIS IS ABOUT MILES THEN--”

“OF COURSE IT'S ABOUT MILES SKYE! ISN'T IT OBVIOUS THAT I LIKE YOU? I THOUGHT YOU LIKED ME TOO BUT YOU SLEPT WITH ANOTHER GUY!”

“GRANT PLEASE! WE'VE BEEN OVER THIS LIKE A BILLION TIMES! I AM SORRY OKAY? I HAD A BOYFRIEND BUT I STOPPED LOVING MILES A LONG TIME AGO, HE WAS JUst... Was just--” she hung her head feeling a blush tinting the tips of her ears. He tried to reach out for her again and she was about to let him pull her into his arms when she remembered her plan and stepped away.

“WAS JUST WHAT SKYE?!” He was exasperated now, that much was obvious. But he deserved to know. He needed to know how much he meant to her so that she wouldn't lose him.  
“Miles was the last tie I had to the person I was before this. Before S.H.I.E.L.D and men in suits and guns and death and training and relationships and you... and I guess a part of me just misses the less complicated stuffbutIwouldn'tchangeanyofit!” she blurted out at the end. Taking a deep breath, she tried again.

“I love what I have now. It's more than I've had before. It's just strange... all new to me this caring thing.” She breezed out a nervous laugh which earned her a small smile.

“No one has looked out for me the way you guys do in a long time, and I guess I am kinda scared by how afraid I was that I might've lost you today. I have never felt this way before about anyone Grant and I am literally so terrified that I'm going to mess up again and lose you all. Or that May is going to have had enough of me and kick me out. Or Coulson is going to realise he has made a mistake and drop me off in India or Fitzsimmons is going to suddenly realise that I betrayed them and they are going to hate me forever... or that I am going to keep on having to watch you almost die and that the pain my chest when I'm near you and I remember what I have done to you is going to become too much and my heart it just going to stop!” she heaved a big breath and looked up at those puppy dog eyes, her own defiant yet brimming with yet more tears. His brow furrowed again but he didn't seem angry anymore. Once again he tried to reach out for her and she let out a sob as she pushed him away once again.  
“Please don't.” she whispered.

“Skye what's going on? Are you hurt?” well yes she was. But not in the way you're thinking of. She shook her head. He let out a massive sigh that shook the bunk around them. Moving around her, he perched on the edge of the bed, head in his hands. It had been a long day for the both of them.

“Look, here's the thing, I've never felt this way about anyone either and I can assure you that you make me more terrified than any mission I have ever been on but just because my heart aches every time I see you upset. I basically feel everything you feel. If you're happy, so am I. If you're in pain then I am too. This has never happened to me before and I get that I should've said goodbye now I'm just not use to having someone to say goodbye to. But just so you know,” he reached out to her again, pulling her by the waist and looking up into her eyes. And just like she predicted, her knees buckled under his touch after the stress of the day- but his strong hands when there, keeping her up and straddling her legs so she had them either side of his, his arms now settled on her back. She sat there in awe, before locking her arms behind his head. Her heart felt like it was beating 1000 times a minute and she could barely breath at his confession but the last thing she wanted him to do right now was to stop talking so she didn't say a word.

“I can't lose you either! In fact, the only way I got through one day without you was with this.” Pulling a chain out of his pants pocket, he placed it around her neck, tucking her un-kept hair behind her ear as she looked down to inspect it. It was her locket, she took it off yesterday and...put it on her bedside table. Looking up at him, love radiating off her, it was all she could do to not sob into his arms and kiss him senseless. Instead, she just waited him to fill the silence with more of his wonderful words.

“I saw it on the floor this morning when I came back to get some stuff. I was going to wake you but you looked so peaceful and Simmons told me that she suspected you hadn't been sleeping. I just took the necklace as like a reminder of what I had to come home to.” he flashed her a sheepish lopsided grin that would've been goofy if he wasn't the centre of her universe right now. Reaching round, he scratched the back of his head awkwardly. Unable to put her feelings effectively into words for the umpteenth time that day, she did the next best thing. She kissed him.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So so so so sorry it's been so long but I've had homework and I've been ill and my anxiety has been bad so like wild times! But here's the final chapter. Actually do not know what happened at the end so apologies in advance! As ever, happy reading :)

Chapter 7  
Ward's P.O.V.

“I saw it on the floor this morning when I came back to get some stuff. I was going to wake you but you looked so peaceful and Simmons told me that she suspected you hadn't been sleeping. I just took the necklace as like a reminder of what I had to come home to.” he finished, cringing internally at his own lack of charm and general cheesiness. Good God what had he become?! Flashing her a smile he hoped would ease the awkward tension that clouded the air around them, he was acutely aware of the overwhelming feeling to kiss her, but considering just minutes before she wanted his head on a plate, he wasn't sure it was the best plan. Instead, he fought back the urge to touch her, to feel her with him after a bad mission, he played with the fluffy hairs on the back of his neck.

Then she was kissing him. 

At first it was soft. Just a brush of her full lips pressed against his but it was enough to make his stomach flip. Short and sweet, it lasted only a couple of seconds but it was their first kiss and he didn't want to push her so when she withdrew, he slowly fluttered his eyes open, a grin threatening to split his face in two. When he opened his eyes she was blushing, hair a mess. It was then he looked down and realised she was now wearing his hoodie and wow she was adorable. She wore a cheeky smile on her pretty face which reached her eyes and made the different browns in them dance. She was quite possibly the most beautiful girl he's even seen and boy has he been around (not that he was going to tell her that or anything).

And then he couldn't help himself. Like a greater force was compelling him, Grant leaned down so their faces were in line, before moving his lips tantalizingly slowly towards hers. His eyes were open as he watched her own flicker shut, anticipating the kiss. He watched her breath hitch at the heat between them, he observed the way her throat muscles constricted when she swallowed heavily, he watched as her eyes lashes brushed her cheekbones when she involuntarily flinched at the sensation of his breath on her neck. 

He only closed his eyes when slowly ghosting his lips across hers as if seeking Skye's permission, to which she wasn't happy with. Moaning in disapproval, she grabbed the back of his neck, fingers seeking home as the raked their way through his short black hair, in an attempt to get closer to him. He couldn't suppress the soft laugh that escaped him when he leaned back a bit to admire her. She was pouting like a five year old which only made him laugh harder. That was until she had fistfuls of his hoodie and was pulling him back down to her warm lips. This time there was no niceties. Feeling her tongue trace his bottom lip, he immediately opened up to her before she fought him for dominance. And here she was. The Skye he knew and loved. All up in your face fire and passion and God he could just fuck her right now. But he was injured and she was practically dead on her feet and the bus was full of people he'd have to sit next to at breakfast tomorrow morning. So instead they continued to devour each other like they couldn't breathe without them. Which they couldn't. Not anymore. But the strange thing is, Grant Ward, Specialist, full-time robot, great protector didn't mind needing someone this time.

Later that night, after 3 more lectures from Skye, some more incredible kissing and some of Simmons' less incredible food, he found himself being roused by the sudden loss of bed sheets that were covering his barely clothed (only boxers give the man some privacy) body. He was about to open his eyes and protest when he felt a warm head on his chest and a hand above his heart, feather-light fingers sketching soothing circles on a scar just below his shoulder. Sighing, he reached down and pulled the covers up over both of them before winding his arms around the drowsy figure, securing the warm bundle to him before pressing a kiss to her hair. Feeling her sigh into his chest, breaths puffing delicately on his worn skin, he, for the first time in forever, felt himself relax. Properly relax. And it felt good. Yet he still didn't sleep. Not for a while anyway. Instead, he lay still in the dark, listening to the steady sound of the sleeping form on top of him, and heralded a silent prayer to all the Gods that he didn't believe in to thank them for giving him this wonderful woman....  
But also to seek their help. Because surely enough, as every night, his past would come for him. Tales of battles long won and of miserable days. He didn't expect anything less, you could almost say he welcomed it... “You don't have to know who you are, as long as you remember who you have been.” was the quote that came to mind. That even though he struggled sometimes -was he suppose to be the specialist, robot, great protector that he'd always been, or was he supposed to let go of that life and embrace a new one. Let people in, share their love and pain once more?- if he had these nightmares, he would remember who he didn't want to be again. Someone who was afraid. Vulnerable. Weak. Which was a good thing, except Skye was here. 

So he prayed to the Gods for their help for the next morning, when the inevitable question would come from the love of his life who he cradled in his arms. 

She'd ask him about the screaming, and he'd tell her his story. 

And maybe it would be too much for her, maybe she would look at him in disgust, she'd say how he was pathetic, lord knows he's thought it too. Or maybe she'd take him in her arms and vow to never hurt him. Either way, he knows this is it. The last ever day of Agent Grant Ward, specialist, robot, great protector. And you know what? He was so scared that every moment from now on would be 10x worse than any moment he'd ever lived through. But when he felt her hand above his heart, vision blurred by his silent tears, he truly knew for the first time in his life, that it was alright to not know who he was going to be tomorrow, as long as he remembered who he has been before: a terrified child, an enraged teenager, a hateful man, a stone-hearted recruit, an Agent of SHIELD... and now? Now, he was, after all these years, Grant Ward. And nothing could stop the tears from falling onto his pillow, because he was finally home.


End file.
